Chryed Shoulder
by Mushroom Hair
Summary: To cry on.
1. Chapter 1

Christian sat bolt upright in bed and tried to quiet his breathing. He was sure the pounding of his heart must be shaking the bed, it was echoing so loudly in his ears, and he glanced in concern at the sleeping body beside him.

Syed snuffled, and a small smile curved his mouth briefly. In the half light of the dawn, Christian studied his face with love, the sweep of dark lashes across his cheeks, his hair, tousled from their earlier passion, tangled across the pillow.

Pulse gradually returning to normal, Christian wiped the sweat from his brow and bent his head to gently kiss Syed's shoulder. He pushed back the duvet and silently rose, scowling at the thumping dull ache behind his eyes. At the window, he lifted a slat and peered through the blinds, watching the sun rise above the grey roofs, the first stirrings of the day beginning, anticipating the inevitable trundling rattle of the market stalls as they were rolled out to take their places for the oncoming trade.

The hairs on his arms rose in a sudden shiver, and he rubbed them hard, trying to force warmth back into his skin, glancing behind him to Syed's silent form. He contemplated waking him, knowing that he was the only one who could give him the heat he craved.

'Selfish..' He scolded himself at the thought, pulling on his dressing gown and dragging the cord tight around his waist. Quietly pulling out a chair, he sat with his chin in his hands and waited patiently for the day to break.

Syed yawned and wrinkled his nose, flailing about in the bed as he stretched all of his muscles.

"Morning!" He mumbled cheerily, reaching to hug Christian. He opened his eyes, bemused.

"Why you over there?" He asked, puzzled at the sight of Christian slumped over the dining table. Turning his head and resting it on his arms, Christian grinned.

"Hey. Couldn't sleep, bad dreams…"

Syed dragged the duvet up to his chin and turned his mouth down in a show of sympathy.

"Bummer. Was it Mo Harris doing the naked belly dance again?"

The laugh Christian uttered was small and hollow, and made Syed blink in concern.

"That's the sort of thing. I'll go for a shower now, didn't want to risk waking you.." He stood up suddenly and headed towards the bathroom.

"I wouldn't have minded.. You're always worth being woken up by…" Syed's voice trailed away as he heard the gush of water jet out. He waited hopefully for the onset of singing, but none came, and he bit his lip, wondering how awful a dream it could have been to make Christian so dour.

He reappeared, rubbing his hair with a towel and Syed lay, still and puzzled, as he quickly dressed and picked up his keys.

"You going to be alright? You need anything?"

Syed shook his head.

"Nope, thanks. Aren't you having breakfast?"

"Said I'd meet Roxy at the café, she's having a shit time, poor cow.."

"Yes, she must be. Shall I see you for lunch?"

Shrugging his shoulders noncommittally, Christian put his hand on the door and opened it.

"Maybe. Are you going out at all?"

"I might go over to the salon. I promise I won't leer at any builders though.."

Syed noticed that Christian's expression remained unchanged, stayed guarded, eyes focused on the middle distance.

"Oh, okay. Be careful going down the stairs, won't you.."

"I've mastered the art now, I'm a one legged genius, lean against the wall, slide along, propping myself up with the crutches…" Seeing Christian step onto the landing, Syed called plaintively;

"Don't I get a kiss?"

"Course.."

Christian's lips were tight and cold on his, the embrace perfunctory, before he raced away down the stairs, leaving Syed to stare at the ceiling in confusion.

'I never have to ask..' He mused, '..he won't ever leave me without one. What the fuck's up with him?'

He struggled out of bed and hobbled over to the kitchen, his cast heavy and cumbersome, and he cursed it's presence, wishing he could sprint after Christian and find out what on earth could be bothering him.

* * *

><p>"You're doing your best, babe. Anyone can see that.." Christian leant across to wipe a mascara black tear track from Roxy's cheek.<p>

"I feel so useless.." She stirred her coffee morosely, bright blonde head drooping like a sad sunflower. In the background, behind the counter, he could see his sister, her forehead furrowed with frown lines, savagely buttering a slice of bread as if it was responsible for all the grief and frustration in her life.

"But you're not.." He gripped her shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly. "..Do you want me to come with you?"

She picked up her handbag from beside her and stood up, managing a watery smile.

"Nah, got to do this by myself. Anyway, you'll want to be with Syed."

He grunted and slid his cup away.

"Mm. Need to have a word with Jane. Call me.." He wrapped her in a hug and sent her on her way, taking their discarded crockery over to Jane.

"Cheers, Christian. You're out early. Where's Syeed?"

"Couldn't sleep. He's at home, well he was. I expect he's gone somewhere by now. How are you? Is Bobby any better?"

A tear appeared in the corner of her eye and she brushed it angrily away.

"He would be if Ian would give it a rest.." She took the cups from him.

"If there's anything I can do, have a word, take Bobby out for the day.." He patted her hand, wrapping it in his own strong fingers and lifting it to his mouth.

"Aw, thanks. What would I do without my baby brother? He's at his friends at the moment. Ian thought it was for the best…I shouldn't even be here, don't know why I'm helping him, I've left Jean on her own in the pub..."

They exchanged glances as the smell of burning toast hit them both at the same time.

"Oh no!" Jane pressed the lever on the toaster, ejecting two pieces of charcoal with such force that they flew onto the floor. Seeing her begin to crumple, Christian gently moved her out of the way and grabbed the tea towel she was flapping frantically at the smoke.

"Leave it Jane, go and have a rest for a bit, I can take over here, I haven't got any work 'til next week, we were going to spend.. Anyway, shove off. I'll deal with it."

He bustled her to the other side of the counter and pointed forcefully to the way out.

"GO!"


	2. Chapter 2

"There you are!"

Christian looked up from the pan of scrambled eggs and smiled vacantly.

"Here I am.."

"I've been calling you, why didn't you pick up?" Syed leant his crutches clumsily against the counter, tutting as one slid down and crashed to the floor.

"Do you need a hand?" Putting down the pan, Christian wiped his hands on the front of his apron and made to come round to help.

"No, no…got it. You'd think I'd have got better at this wouldn't you?"

"Not long now. Sorry I didn't answer, it's been manic here, lunch time rush and all."

Syed studied his face as he bustled about, expertly flipping bacon with one hand while he scooped out eggs with the other.

"But why are you doing this?"

"Jane got in a tizzy, worried about Bobby and her big life change, so I said I'd take over. Marie should be here soon. Do you want anything?"

Sighing, Syed reached across to try and grab Christian's arm.

"Only my boyfriend.."

"Tough, he's busy. How were the builders?"

"The last lot were fitter, and none of them came anywhere close to you. Still, I've got three quotes now, just need to let Tanya have a look and we'll decide who to go with.. Are you alright, Christian?"

Christian picked up the plate and regarded him quizzically, before calling;

"You didn't want black pudding on your all day breakfast, did you Ricky?"

"No ta, Christian."

"There you go.."

He touched Syed's elbow as he returned to the counter.

"Sure I can't get you anything?"

"A cup of tea, I'll watch you work.."

"Be like the unit then. Go and sit down, can you manage? I can move some chairs.."

"I can manage.."

Manoeuvring his crutches through the diners, Syed bashed Lauren on the leg in the process, and apologised profusely. He found a place with a good view of Christian, and followed him with his gaze as he busied about the café.

"Tea for one.." Christian plonked the mug down in front of him. "And you definitely don't want anything to eat, sandwich, veggie burger?"

On seeing Syed's shake of the head, Christian turned to go, stayed by a tug at his sleeve.

"I'll wait for you. We could go out somewhere? Oxford Street, maybe? Have lunch in Soho.."

Syed's eyes pleaded optimistically and Christian paused for a moment.

"After last time? With you bumping into people all the way down and nearly going arse over tit under a bendy bus? Anyway, I said I'd pick Amy up from nursery and sit with her until Rox gets back from trying to see Ronnie, and making sure Jack doesn't drink himself to death…"

Crushed, Syed bit back his disappointment.

"Oh. I could come with you? We could go for a meal when she gets back?"

"Could do. I was going to go out with Steve and Sam and get absolutely trashed, but they've gone to Whitby.."

" You never said. Why Whitby?" Syed raised his eyebrow's in surprise. "On a Dracula tour? Is Sam going to suck some poor sod's blood?"

"Suck something.. No, Ste's mum's really ill, he rang me on my way here, he's in bits, poor love, took ages to calm him down."

"That's crap! I'll ring him later.."

"He'd like that. Speaking of mum's, seen yours?" Christian couldn't help hostility creeping into his voice, despite his best efforts at sounding normal, and hated the quick glimmer of gloom that settled on Syed, like a flutter of dark moth's wings

"I saw them both, rowing outside the restaurant, they didn't notice me though, and I thought, after last night, they can just get on with it.."

Christian stroked his hair tenderly.

"Poor love…" The café door swung open, and Christian quickly headed over to the customer.

"…sorry, punters. Catch you later.."

Morosely, Syed watched the steam rise from his tea. Four more people had entered and were impatiently awaiting Christian's attention.

'Just like me..' He struggled to his feet, trying to signal to Christian that he was leaving, but Christian was engrossed, his jaw set in a firm line, broad shoulders tense as he intently scooped out Tuna mix into a baguette.

As Syed made his way back home, he saw his parents again, still arguing. His mother's angry distressed face scrunched in anguish and frustration, his father's hands raised defensively. Syed could imagine the words of accusation and mollification that must be flying back and forth between them and tried to harden his heart, thought instead of the man in the café, tall and strong, his man.

"Fuck it!" Christian looked at the thin slice on his finger and threw the knife down, saw the blood flood to the surface and spill out onto the chopping board.

"Hiya!" He span round in relief, wrapping a tea towel around the wound.

"Marie! Right on cue…"

"Do you need a plaster?" She went to get the first aid box, but Christian was already half way out of the door.

"No time, got to pick up Amy, I'm sure she can point me in the direction of her Mr. Bump one's.. Enjoy!"

Christian gazed around the square, hoping he might be able to catch up with Syed, grab a proper kiss. He spotted him, standing stock still, watching his parent's from the other side of the road, his expression one of need mixed with anger.

Christian's first impulse, stirring in his gut, propelling him forward, was to sprint across and offer comfort. But something prevented him, a tired wave of helplessness that stultified him. And he remembered Amy, and turned and walked away.


	3. Chapter 3

The light flooded the flat, and Syed jumped in alarm at the sight of Christian lying prone on the sofa, almost overbalancing.

"You're home!.."

He leant his crutches against the table and hobbled round to sit by him, laying his finger softly on his hair.

"..And you're listening to Adele, in the dark. Are you okay? Probably not.."

Christian twisted his head back and gave a rueful grin.

"Maudlin. Where've you been? Is it your parents again?"

Syed shifted his leg up and wriggled along, raising Christian's head and placing it on his lap.

"I've been with Tam, so, kind of. It was pretty much the main topic of conversation, that, and how to get out of his impending sham marriage.."

Christian snorted.

"Masood boys make a habit of those it would seem…" He sensed Syed bridle, noticed the slight hiatus in the stroking touch against his forehead.

"How was Amy?"

Folding his arms across his chest, Christian shut his eyes tightly.

"She was an absolute madam. Think she can sense that mummy's distraught and daddy's, understandably, lost the plot."

"Aw, poor little soul. I thought you might be taking Roxy out somewhere, try and cheer her up, or I would have come home sooner.."

"I think me and her have both realised that there are some things so bad, they can't be remedied with a bucket load of vodka and a few banging tunes.."

Raking his knuckles against the stubble on Christian's cheek, Syed laughed hollowly.

"Well, you know I've never been able to see how alcohol makes things better.."

Christian's half opened his eyes and glowered at his own bare feet.

"Oblivion. Sometimes it can seem like a good option.. Whatever. Did Tamwar have any suggestions or theories as to what might be going on with your mum and dad's finances? What Yusef's up to? Why the fuck they can't accept you for who you are?"

"Tambo's not going to have the answers, he's got a touch of the oblivious, non alcohol induced. Just wants to keep his head down, live a quiet life, be a newly wed and spend more time with Afia.."

"I can understand that. Not the wanting to be with Afia bit, obviously…." His voice trailed away and he closed his eyes again, lulled by the comforting kneading of Syed's fingers against his scalp.

"I meant what I said in the Vic, that they have to accept me for who I am, how I live, you. Realise their hypocrisy. I thought you were proud of me…" Syed's last sentence sounded so plaintive that Christian quickly rolled over to lie on his front, he reached out a hand and pressed it against Syed's cheek.

"I am proud of you. I know what it took for you to do that, how happy you'd been to be making steps to be reconciled with them. It's just I…"

"It's just you what? Christian, what?"

Christian turned over onto his back again, and pursed his lips.

"It doesn't matter."

Shifting angrily, Syed prised himself upright, letting Christian's head fall with a thud onto the cushion.

"Please yourself. You've been in a weird mood all day, if you won't tell me why, I can't help you. I'm making a drink, do you want one?"

"A big fat glass of red wine."

Christian listened to Syed stropping around in the kitchen. He wondered about shouting to him to be careful with the coffee machine when he heard cursing, and the sound of beans scattering across the floor, but his chest felt heavy with inertia and he couldn't find the energy to care.

Syed swept the spilt coffee beans into a pile, then realised he couldn't bend down properly to push them into the dustpan. He tried stretching his cast out behind him and leaning, holding the work top for support, but nearly fell face downwards into the bin.

"Bollocks!" He hissed under his breath, abandoning the heap and sloshing wine into a glass of epic proportions. He felt tetchy with guilt, knowing that he had been so focused on his family, he may have been neglecting Christian's feelings. The realisation began to make him unreasonably defensive, but he managed not to throw the wine at Christian and handed it over nicely.

"Here.." He tried to calm himself down, helped by the sense of Christian's defeated unhappiness.

"I spoke to Steve.."

"Thanks." Christian lifted himself up and took a large slug of his drink. "Did you? How was he?"

"A lot better. His mum's off the critical list, said she's stable and they're hopeful for improvement. He wanted me to tell you how grateful he is, for listening to him, calming him down and giving him strength.."

"Aw, bless him. It was only what anyone would have done…"

Positioning himself beside him, Syed put his arm around his neck, gently pulling his head down to rest upon his shoulder, all his crossness suddenly dissipating.

"No, and certainly not as well as you do. And I should say the same things to you, more often, not take you for granted. I know I've been secretive lately.."

"Secret Squirrel.. It doesn't matter."

Syed kissed the tip of his nose, and murmured;

"Obviously it does, or something does. I can almost smell the sadness on you.."

"Eau de Tristesse.. I'm knackered, didn't get much sleep last night, you dirty boy…"

"I can't promise that won't happen again, and again, and again.. and you have to be inventive when one of your legs is encased in plaster of paris. Please tell me what's bothering you Christian, let me make it better…"


	4. Chapter 4

"Truly, it's probably because I'm tired and grumpy…" Christian ran his hand slowly along the inside of Syed's thigh.

"Don't try and distract me with that….Aw, you've injured yourself! Peppa Pig, nice."

Lifting Christian's finger to his mouth, Syed kissed the brightly coloured plaster.

"Amy was fresh out of Mr. Bump. Cut myself in the café, being careless. Ian's chopping board looked a picture, smeared with my gore…"

"You didn't faint or cry?"

"I'm FAR too manly. It's just a scratch.." Christian tapped Syed's cast. Through the material of his trousers, the impact made a solid, clonking sound.

"Ow!"

"I'm so sorry Sy!" Christian's covered his mouth in alarm. "Did I hurt you?"

"Joking.." Shifting himself back against the sofa cushions, Syed moved his leg to a more comfortable position, and pulled Christian closer. "…Come on, spill."

Taking a long deep breath, Christian shuddered and bowed his head. He felt afraid to start, worrying that, once he began to talk, the words would stay in the very fabric of their home, taint the walls with his melancholy. He hesitated, and Syed tipped up his chin, forcing him to meet concerned dark eyes.

"Where do I start?"

"At the very beginning?"

"That's a very good place to start.." They spoke in unison, laughing at each other, and Christian sensed an infinitesimal shift in his burden.

"Well, my best mate's sister is in prison for baby snatching, her daughter's father has wigged out and is about to melt down, her new boyfriend is as much use as a chocolate teapot, and she hasn't had a moment to grieve for the death of her nephew. My sister's marriage has broken down, her husband is being an arse of the highest order, but is dying inside at the thought of losing her, her son saw her kissing another man. Our friend's mother is very ill… Need I go on?"

"These are big and broad and gorgeous shoulders…" Syed fingertips pressed deep into the tissue of his muscles, soothing the tension away. "..but you can't take all the weight of other people's worlds on them."

"I'm sounding like a put upon martyr, It makes me unhappy to see them having a rubbish time, they're people I love, I wish I could be more help…"

"But you do help, you're there for them, and you're lovely and they're lucky to have you. I'm lucky to have you. You do know that you can always talk to me about it, when it gets too much, off load."

"But Syed, at the moment, I don't think I can..."

The pressure of Syed's massage ceased abruptly, and Christian felt his throat constrict, looking at the hurt and bafflement in his eyes.

"Don't you? I don't understand.."

"Oh, oh, don't look like that… I'm not having a go, you've been so preoccupied lately, with your parents.."

"Well, yeah, but it's important to me, to be back on speaking terms with them, been a lot to think about, like a dream come true."

Syed turned his head away slightly, poised to be defensive.

"I know, I know. But I'm so worried they might hurt you again, and they will, they already are. They'll never be able to get past their homophobia, not in a billion years.."

" How can you be so sure? They could learn to accept us, in time. I learned to accept myself. And they're my mum and dad, my family, how do I forget about that? They'll always be here.." Syed laid a hand over his heart. "… I can't not care."

"I'm your family too." Christian voice was low, and Syed saw with distress that his bottom lip had started to tremble.

"Don't Christian, oh my love, you are. Is it wrong that I want both?"

"What if you can't? If you have to abandon the notion you can have it all? Fuck it, this is pointless, you're stressed enough about it as it is, just ignore me, I had a crap nights sleep, I've got compassion overload and I've allowed my nightmare to mess with my head…"

"So it wasn't about Mo dancing in the buff?"

"Sadly not, that might have been a laugh.." Christian grimaced at the thought. "….Actually, no, it would have been hideous…."

"Tell me."

Frowning, Christian reached for his wine glass and took a sip, using the action as an opportunity to buy some time, to gather himself before he had to respond.

"Christian, please, tell me." Syed took the drink from him and placed it on the floor, his gaze not leaving Christian's face. He curled his fingers around Christian's hand and waited patiently, noting the evasive eyes, dark circles beneath them, his jaw set firm, clenched from the effort of restraining his emotions.

"It was about you…"


	5. Chapter 5

"Was I dancing naked?"

Syed was relieved to see a faint glimmer of amusement twinkle briefly in Christian's eyes.

"That wouldn't have made me wake in a cold sweat, a hot one maybe… No. You weren't there. I woke up and you'd gone.."

"But I am here, still here.."

Even Syed's calm voice and the warm touch of his hand against Christian's neck, couldn't lessen the churning of his stomach, or the memory the nightmare.

"Empty place beside me, no note, none of your clothes in the wardrobe, no prayer mat, no sign that you'd ever been here. And I had to find you, but every train I was on went to the wrong destination, or broke down. Buses stopped running, Taxi drivers would only go to Heathrow, you know the sort of thing…"

"Yes.." Syed nodded his understanding. "..That panicky sensation of being in an exam, turning over the paper, and your guts dropping to the floor when you realise you'd revised the wrong subject.."

" Or walking along the High Street and noticing you've forgotten to put your trousers on. That was one of yours, wasn't it?"

"Oh don't, haunted me all week that one. Remember, I kept asking you to check I had them on, and you pissed yourself laughing and told me I was mad? It was a dream, It will fade, trust me.." Syed reassuringly stroked Christian's hair, pressing his head down closer onto his shoulder.

"I don't think it will, not for a long while.. It gets much, much worse…"

"Go on."

The top two buttons of Syed's shirt were undone, and Christian fixed his gaze on the black hair that curled over his chest, inhaling the warm smell of his skin, a faint tang of citrus shower gel, the familiar scent of their shared washing powder, neither masking the true essence of him.

"And I'm running, and running, but all the streets look the same. Rows and rows of neat suburban houses, all the front doors the same, and there's no one, no one at all to ask for directions, or help. My breath is burning in my lungs, and I think my chest will rip open with pain. And then I see a house, set a little apart, different from the others. Bigger, more homely, roses around the blue front door. And I can hear laughter, and music. There's the smell of a bonfire, mingling with the flowers, and I go down the path by the side of the house, into a beautiful garden. I see a young woman, walking away, carrying a tray of food. And it looks so delicious, my mouth waters. But I can't swallow and the saliva starts to drown me. I can't see her face as she disappears into the house, just a long coil of dark wavy hair, snaking down her back. There's a tent, the sides flapping in the breeze, yellow and gold silks, beautiful against the clear blue sky. Your father is there, face wreathed in smiles as he brandishes something burnt on the end of a stick. And your mother taps him on the arm, pretending to be cross, but she's fighting back a giggle that bursts out, and makes him embrace her. Tam and Afia are standing close together by the bonfire, his head bent low to catch something she's whispering. And you…"

Christian's voice broke, and the tears he had been keeping at bay began to spill down his face.

"And you. You're lifting a little girl, high into the air. Her eyes are the colour of golden caramel in the sunlight, your eyes. And she's shrieking with delight, urging her daddy to lift her higher. And your face… So happy, euphoric.."

He paused, choking back a sob.

"Christian…."

"And I call your name. I'm screaming your name, but you take no notice… Zainab says something and you turn, and I reach out.. But you look straight through me, balancing your daughter on your hip, you link arms with your mother and the tent flaps open, wrapping around you, and you're gone. And I'm on my own, and I can't follow you…"

"Christian.." Syed held him tight, rocking him until the sobbing began to quieten and the shaking subside.

"..Hush, my poor darling, it's okay, I'm here, I love you."

"I know, I know you do. I love you so much Sy.. It seemed so real, I could feel the joy pulsing out of you, you had everything. You were a dutiful son, a good husband, a proud father, all the things you desired.."

"Not all the things. You weren't there. How could I be happy without you?"

Pulling down the sleeve of his shirt, Syed began to tenderly wipe away his tears with the cuff.

"I stopped you having those things.." Christian sniffed pathetically.

"Oh shut up, now you're being stupid. It was a dream, Christian. The reality would have been me in a prison of anguish, trying to make everyone happy while I slowly withered inside. Becoming angry, taking my frustrations out on the people that loved me, making their lives a misery because of my living hell."

"Oh fuck it, I've dumped all this on you, welcome to my freak out…"

"It's allowed. I can only be who I truly am because of you. Without your strength, your support, I'd never be able to try and work it out with my parents. If I didn't know you were there, watching my back, waiting to pick up the pieces, what would I be? A bitter, hollow dishonest man. Having you, here, in our home, our life, our bed, it makes me brave enough to believe I can have it all."

Lifting his head, Christian managed a weak lopsided smile.

"Am I the wind beneath your wings?"

"Hmm, not sure about that, though sometimes your wind is quite bad. I would say you were my Superman, but at the minute you'd only pass as soppy man…"

"Jelly Head! Crime fighting hero! I'm really sorry, Sy. I feel so worn out and old.."

Syed patted him lightly on the cheek.

"You're only as old as the man you feel, which puts you in a winning situation. The scars we have, you and me, from all we've been through, they match, we share them. Remember that."

Christian fished around in his pocket until he found a tissue. Blowing his nose loudly, he straightened up.

"I feel a bit of a wanker now, and I've made you all wet .." He dabbed at the damp tear sodden patches on Syed's shirt.

"If it shrinks, you'll be buying me a new one.." Syed levered himself upright.

"..And I bet you haven't eaten anything all day, shall I make you something? You're not having cheese."

"No…" Christian stood beside him and leaned into his body. "…Anything you need to do, about your parents, I'll stand by you. I'm not quite sure where I fit in.."

"With me. You fit in with me. You're my lover, my family. We're making plans!" Syed beamed at him, and Christian saw the same joy he had seen in his dream, and felt his heart begin to heal.

"We really are."

"And you're sure you don't want any food? Speak now, or forever hold your codpiece.."

"Nope, I want to go to bed. I want you all over me, I want to be inside you, I want to fall asleep with your hair in my mouth and your arms wrapped around me."

"A typical night at the Clarke Masoods then?" Syed gazed deep into his eyes, bright with love.

"Yep. You and me."

* * *

><p>.<strong><em>There you go lovelies. :) Thank you for reading it, for reading all of them. I hope you enjoyed it, and sorry it got so angsty! xxxx<em>**


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